


Northern Lights, Southern Stars

by little_abyss



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Absence, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Letters, Multi, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-27 03:52:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6268513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_abyss/pseuds/little_abyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of letters back and forth between Taliesin Hawke and his lovers, detailing the events of DA:I.  For FenHanders Week 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Northern Lights, Southern Stars

_A series of letters:  
_

Boys,

Made it fine.  Inquisitor is charming, but a bit… odd.  Vashoth, but I bet I could take him, if needs must.  Insists on calling me Champion, which V. fucking loves.  Will stay a while, if I can avoid the Seeker, and ~~Knight-Cap~~ Commander Cullen. Good grief.  

All my love, give my big girl a pet from her daddy.  

xx Tal

 

-|||-

 

Love,

All is well here.  Summer has been strange without you - missed you for Wintersend.  F. won’t go with you not here, tho’ I told him of your instructions.  He told me he will write you himself, so be expecting a letter.  We have kept up writing, and F. learns quickly, as you said, though complains like a bastard of hand cramp.  He insists on martyring himself over it though, so you may see improvement.  Crops going well; have not risked healing, though in the village I hear there is a need.

Be safe, love.  Come home soon.

 

-|||-

 

Hawke.

It is ~~fy~~ fine here.  The sun is out almost every day.  I miss you.  So ~~dus~~ does he.

Fenris.

 

-|||-

 

Boys, my darling boys,

I keep your letters with me always.  I love you, I miss you, every day.  But I am now steeped in this cause, this Inquisition.  There isn’t much I can say about what they are doing, or the things that they plan, for fear this will be intercepted (ooh! cloak and dagger - we all know how much you both love that shit, beacons for subtlety that you are).  In any case, I have made several friends in the kitchens, and met a delightful young woman by the name of Sera - I’m going to bore your ears off with stories about our shenanigans when I return.  The Warden I travel with is a dour fucker, but I’m sure you’ll both be pleased to know that I’ve met an honest-to-the-Maker Qunari who could drink you under the table, F.  So miracles are still possible, even with the whole of Thedas going to the Void.  We are off ~~to the dese~~ somewhere exciting in a week or so, so please don’t be alarmed if you don’t hear from me soon.

All my love, hope the big girl is behaving herself.

xx Tal

 

-|||-

 

Love,

Life keeps going, as do we.  Your last letter was received with relief, but it has to be admitted some consternation. F will remind you that nobody drinks him under the table, and he would like to meet this Qunari would would try to best him.  And wherever you are going - you’ll note I’m ignoring your glibness and your reference to ‘cloak and dagger’ - please, _please_ be careful.

There is an elderly hedge mage in the village.  I met with her, and she has enthusiastically given me her blessing to help.  She is very old, and near blinded by cataracts, but insists the Maker guides her.  It feels so good to be helping again.  

Your stupid dog is fine, though she misses you.  As do we.

Be safe.  Come home soon.

 

-|||-

 

Hawke.

We miss you.  The dog is horible but ~~hellt~~ ~~healf~~ well.  She ate one of his shoos the other day and it was very funny.  I still smile ~~fink~~ thinking of it.  I hope it makes you smile too.

I have been writing every day.  He has been helping me, but we try each others ~~payshence~~ patients.  But he is better now he is helping in the village with the old woman.  Happier I think to use his ~~mag~~ skills again.

We love you.  Come home.

Fenris.

 

-|||-

 

Love,

I know you said not to worry, but this long absence is trying.  The crops are in, and the days are growing shorter.  We have sold part of the crop, traded it for a milk cow.  F. is certain he can make cheese, but I have my doubts.  However, it is lovely to have an animal which isn’t ~~that horrible mut~~ your dog around the place.

I never would have picked F. for a farmer, but he seems to enjoy it, talks less of hunting slavers.  I’m sure as soon as you return this will change, but… perhaps not.   ~~I feel strange a lot of the time, like I’m getting a voice that I don’t~~  I’m fine, healthy, much happier now that I’m helping more and more, ~~though I seem to be tiring~~ It’s so good to help again.  Two babies bought into the world with my assistance now!  And a goring from a bull, which was exhausting, but Maker, it’s so good to help, to be able to help again.  It’s all I ever wanted.

You know all this.  And you know we love you, and that we want you home.  Please be careful, and please, please - come home soon.

 

-|||-

 

Love,

I dreamt of you the other night.  You were fighting, some horrible… horrible thing.  It was hazy, and I was scared - I felt that you would be trapped, that somehow…. Please write.  Or better - come home.  Please.

 

-|||-

 

HAWKE

COME HOME. COME HOME PLEES.  i cannot help him i do not no how and i need you hear.  he says he has to go down and i cannt stop him i cannt stop him please COME HOME.

 

-|||-

 

VARIK.

IF HAWKE IS DEAD I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF. BRING HIM HOME NOW.

FENRIS.

 

-|||-

 

Varik.

I am sorry plees help me.  

He is sic or dyeing. I donot no.  I need Hawke here.  PLEES.

Fenris.

 

-|||-

Varric,

We’re sorry - I’m sorry.  I should have written you earlier, but… I do not really know myself what has happened.  There was some… sort of false calling, or something which made me react strangely.  I honestly don’t know what it was, or is, but I pray it does not return.  It scared Fenris, and badly, though he will not write to tell you that.  

I’m sorry to have frightened you, if we did, but we just want him home.  Do you have any news at all?

 

-|||-

 

A, and F.

~~I just don’t know what’s~~

~~Look, I didn’t know it would turn out like this but~~

~~I’m meant to be the writer, right?  But I’ve started this fucking letter so many times~~

~~I’m sorry, Maker, I’m so~~

 

I don’t know where he is.  We don’t have any word on the Inquisitor either.  I promise you, I would never have put him in harm’s way if I’d known ~~fuck no I knew I knew I’m so sorry~~

 

~~well, shit, we know he’d walk a thousand miles to stand in dogshit, but I guess that’s not really the~~

 

I promise (and you know I’m good for this) that _as soon as I know,_ you will.

I promise, you two.  I mean it.

Varric

-|||-

 

But the days turn into weeks, and the time passes in silence.  Varric may have tried to write again - but perhaps their luck has run out.  Every day toward nightfall, without fail, they leave a candle burning in the window.  For him.  To come home.

The first flurries are in the air, and the world seems ready to be rolled in its winter shroud.  Anders is returning from the village - two miles to the north, it presents a pleasant walk on a day like today.  He shades his eyes against the weak light of the setting autumnal sun, frowning into the distance; a figure is approaching - a beggar or some hedge mage looking for succour.  “Fen,” Anders calls, and he appears at the doorway to the small house, dusting flour from his hands.  He does not ask, just strides from the house to the yard, standing with Anders, shielding his own eyes, trying to see what Anders sees.  And then, Fenris gasps, and takes Anders hand.  He pulls Anders forward, toward the figure.  The figure runs toward them, stumbles and catches itself, runs again.  “My darlings!” it cries, it’s voice cracked with emotion, “Oh, my darlings!”

And then he is there, in their arms, and they are laughing and crying together, until the laughter and the tears erase the long strangeness of their time apart.  The sun sinks lower on the horizon, bathing the three of them in its dying light, and Hawke’s eyes burn fiercely as he tells them, “Maker, but I love you.  I love you both so much.”


End file.
